In the two and a half hours they had spent discussing their options, the only thing the four of them had agreed on was: they had to steal the lifeboat. The irony of which was not lost on anyone. They hadn't reached a consensus on how to steal it or what they would do with it once they got it. Wyatt had suggested they go in guns blazing and take everyone by surprise. Rufus preferred hacking the Mason Industries' computers with the help of Jiya (once he got around the idea of putting his girlfriend in danger) a proposal backed by Agent Christopher. Lucy had wondered if they could put sleeping pills in everyone's coffee and steal the lifeboat while they were unconscious. Her idea had been shot down almost immediately.

Rufus had insisted that they continue to use the lifeboat to stop Flynn because of the risk he posed to their current timeline. Wyatt had been quick to interject that maybe that wasn't such a bad thing, echoing Lucy's words of her earlier conversation with Rufus and Agent Christopher. His proposal earned a stern look from Agent Christopher, a 'how could you say that?' from Rufus, and a soft shake of the head from Lucy. Flynn still had to be stopped, there wasn't any room for argument there. With clear frustration Wyatt then suggested, "How about we blow the both of them up and be done with it?"

Lucy would be lying if she said she hadn't thought of that before; if they two time machines were to blame for the majority of their current situation, then maybe getting rid of them wouldn't be so awful? When she had those moments, she was always quick to remember Amy, hear her voice and see her smile and knew, if there was any slim chance that she could use the lifeboat to get her sister back, then they couldn't destroy it. A part of her wondered if Wyatt would even be saying this if his trip back to 1983 hadn't failed. Agent Christopher and Rufus shared a look and then turned to her. She looked at them in confusion until Rufus subtly gestured with his head to Wyatt. She opened her mouth and quickly closed it again. Rufus gestured again, more insistent. Lucy sighed and shifted on the upturned crate she was sitting on so her body was facing Wyatt.

Lucy knew what Rufus wanted her to do: convince Wyatt that blowing up the machines was bad idea. However, it wasn't all that ridiculous a suggestion, and if wasn't for Amy then she wouldn't have stood in Wyatt's way. And maybe if Rufus wasn't so attached to the lifeboat as a feat of science, then maybe he would have seen the upside to Wyatt's idea; you didn't build a time machine overnight, and anything that delayed Rittenhouse's plan was good for them. Lucy struggled for a moment to come up with a non-personal subjective reason and breathed a sigh of relief when Agent Christopher stood up and declared, "We should leave it there. We can continue tomorrow when we have clearer heads."

"Oh yeah, because I'm having a goodnight's sleep tonight, "Rufus said sarcastically as he got to his feet. Lucy huffed a laugh. Wyatt gave one of his half-smiles, accompanied by a shake of his head. Rufus pulled Wyatt into a hug. "I missed you man."

"Missed you too, "Wyatt returned, clapping Rufus on the back lightly. He turned to Agent Christopher and thanked her.

"You can thank me once we have stopped this, "she told him. Wyatt nodded. "Are you going to be Ok?"

"Can't be any harder than surviving Afghanistan, can it?" Wyatt tried to joke. When he was met with three unamused faces he sobered, clearing his throat to break the awkwardness. "I'll be fine."

"I'll be in contact tomorrow, "the agent assured. "Until then, stay safe. And the both of you, don't stay too much longer."

Lucy and Rufus nodded. Rufus didn't need to be reminded of how dangerous this was and, for Lucy, getting caught with a fugitive was not something she ever wanted to say she had accomplished, even if that fugitive was Wyatt. Watching her go, Lucy remembered the Agent Christopher she had had dinner with, the one with a wife and kids, and realised how much the agent was willing to sacrifice to see Rittenhouse destroyed. Or maybe it was because she had so much to lose was the reason she was willing to help them. Lucy reminded herself to thank the other woman sometime and not to take her for granted.

And then it was the three of them. They had come so close to being torn apart. Not that she was angry with Wyatt, if she had had half of his reckless bravery she would have stolen the damn machine herself by now. So, she hadn't been angry but she had been frightened, frightened of losing him and it confused her why she was always so concerned about him. She cared for Rufus too, that went without saying, but it was different. They were friends, she was of sure that. The kind of friendship that could only be forged by sharing the same near death experiences. Her and Wyatt had shared those experiences too but she didn't know if she would call them friends. The word 'friend', its meaning, its connotation wasn't enough to cover their relationship. Ever since Arkansas…well nothing had been easy since Arkansas. But there had been a change, a change in their dynamic they were both aware of, but one they couldn't articulate.

The three of them looked to each other, silently asking the question, what now? It wasn't like they could find a local bar and have a drink (or five) or go steal the lifeboat now and be done with it. There was nothing they could do and yet no-one wanted to leave the other two. They didn't want to be separated from each other again.

"Agent Christopher was right," Wyatt broke the silence. "You should go. They might not be following you but they could be watching your houses."

Lucy tried to suppress the sick feeling that caused in her. She looked to Rufus but he wasn't moving to leave, and didn't look like he was about to either. "Where will you go?" He asked Wyatt, a question Lucy, herself, had meant to ask.

"I'll find somewhere, "Wyatt shrugged, a gesture that didn't sit well with Lucy. She knew Wyatt had been through a lot but she didn't think being on the run from the United States government was something to be taken lightly. Or maybe the whole thing had gotten too absurd to be taken seriously? He was on the run from the government and hiding from a very powerful shadow organisation and had stolen a time machine. Even if one of us ever decided broke our non-disclosure agreement and blab, Lucy thought, no-one would believe us.

"Be careful, man, "Rufus said. There was a pause, then, "I should go and check on Jiya. I mightn't get a chance to see her a lot in the coming days."

"Don't lose her, Rufus, "Wyatt told him. Grief and regret flashed across his face and Lucy wanted to reach and squeeze his hand but she oppressed the urge. "Whatever happens, make sure you keep her safe."

Rufus nodded and looked to Lucy. "You go ahead. I'll see you soon, Rufus."

Rufus nodded, told Wyatt how relieved he was that he was back, then left. Wyatt turned to her. Lucy didn't have a clue what to say. I'm sorry about Jessica. Maybe she's still dead because the man who said he killed her didn't actually kill her, but you probably already knew that, wasn't a good conversation starter. Neither did she want to talk about her father, or the fact that her mother gave her journal, that may or may not, turn out to be the one that ends up in Flynn's possession (though she knew she would have to mention that at some point). In the end, she settled for telling him Baumgardner had died, which in retrospection probably wasn't the best thing to say.

Wyatt sat down on one of the upturned crates and scrubbed his hands over his face. "I should have been there, "he said regretfully. She didn't bother telling him it wasn't his fault, she knew he wouldn't believe her. She sat on the crate next to him. They sat in silence for a moment before he asked, "What else happened on your trip to, "he trailed off as he realised he didn't know where they had jumped to.

"Paris, "she supplied. "It was fine. Flynn was after Charles Lindbergh, first man to fly across the Atlantic. Flynn wanted to stop him from stepping up to his role as Rittenhouse member. Yep, "Lucy confirmed when she saw Wyatt's shocked face, "First man to fly across the Atlantic was a member of Rittenhouse. I tried to convince him he didn't have to follow in his family's footsteps, told him no-one decides your life but you, but I failed. He did what Rittenhouse wanted and became a sucker for money and fame."

"Lucy, "he tried to interject but she wouldn't let him finish.

"You know, he could have become anything. Rufus and I gave him a chance to escape and he took it but it didn't matter. After a few weeks in hiding- "

"Lucy," he cut in, his voice stronger this time, forcing her stop talking and look at him. "You are not Charles Lindbergh, and you are not your father. You're stronger than them. You are willing to fight, to do what's right. That takes courage, more courage than flying across the Atlantic, it seems."

Lucy huffed a laugh. She had missed his little comments. She had missed him. And as much as she didn't want to leave him, she knew she had to. She was tired, and, checking her watch, she knew she had been gone for way too long as it was. Plus, Wyatt needed to find somewhere to sleep and, while she was new to this whole sneaking around and meeting in out of way places thing, she had a feeling that that would probably be easier at night when everyone was too focused on getting home safely to notice whether a fugitive was walking beside them. With a sigh, she stood up and Wyatt got his feet too.

He opened his mouth to tell her to get home safe, but the words never made it out. She hugged him before they had a chance. Once he got over the surprise, he melted into her, holding her close. She turned her head so she could lay it on his shoulder and he closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of having her in his arms. She breathed him in and let her body relax, allowing the relief she had felt when he had first walked into the warehouse to wash over her again. He pulled her impossibly close and kept her there for a moment before releasing her. The air was heavy and electric, and if he hadn't been after, what it must have felt like for him, losing his wife for a second time she would have kissed him.

Instead, she took the lapel of his jacket in her hand and pulled it tighter across his chest, like she had that night, that now felt so long ago. "Goodnight, Wyatt," she whispered. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and she had to force herself to keep breathing calmly as his fingers brushed her skin.

"Goodnight, ma'am."